When wealthy art collector and gentleman of leisure Louis Mantin passed away in 1905, his last will and testament stated his desire to leave his elegantly appointed mansion to the City of Moulins so that the public could be admitted to view his impressive and unusual collection of artifacts and art. The only stipulation, it seemed, was that the spacious townhouse would have to remain sealed and untouched for one hundred years. In reality, there was some misinterpretation of the terms of his will. He had stated only that after one hundred years, the house was to become a museum. He didn’t specifically state what should happen in the interim. At the time, officials believed his desire was that the house should remain unopened. And, so it was. Largely forgotten and unnoticed for a century, when city officials entered the house, they were unsure of what to do with it. Soon, the spirit of the place overtook them, and the answer was clear. Mantin’s wishes had to be carried out.
Mantin spent most of his adult life working in civil service. He never married, and preferred to keep to himself. In his forty-second year, he inherited a substantial fortune which he immediately put to good use. Purchasing a sizeable plot of land in the center of Moulins—land upon which a palace of the Dukes of Bourbon once stood—Matin set about having a beautiful mansion constructed. From that moment onward, Matin’s life was devoted to his passions—the pursuit of pleasure, supporting the arts and his keen interest in science.
The townhouse was a marvel of turrets and stained glass. Filled with the finest fabrics, tapestries, paintings and sculptures, the house was not just a museum. It was also a technological masterpiece which represented the triumphs of the day—electricity, hot and cold running water and even a towel warmer. Magnificent crystal chandeliers glittered in the reception rooms and shone brilliantly against the ornate woodwork, carvings and antiquities from the around the world.
An unsullied treasure chest filled with art and glorious architecture, the house sat abandoned in the center of Moulins for a century. People walked by it and didn’t think much of it. It had always been there. It had always been untouched. After seeing it every day, it just began to blend into the scenery. Meanwhile, the structure was beginning to crumble. Who would know? It’s not as if anyone was really keeping an eye on it.
Well, sort of. One person was paying attention-- Isabelle de Chavagnac, Mantin’s last remaining descendant. Technically, the house and its contents would have legally reverted to her after the passage of one hundred years. However, she was not tempted by the possibility of inheriting the mansion and its priceless inventory. Instead, she wanted to see that her ancestor’s last wishes were carried out. De Chavagnac pressed the city of Moulins to take action. Soon, money was raised to restore the mansion which had long since fallen into disrepair. The restoration of the property took five years. However, thanks to Matin’s detailed notes and careful lists of the placement of each item, the house was reassembled to the condition it was in when Matin died in 1905. Opening its doors in 2010 (five years later than Matin would have liked), the Villa Matin is, indeed, the museum that its owner had envisioned. A veritable time capsule in the middle of the city, Villa Matin will enchant visitors for centuries to come.
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